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A solemn-faced little midget ^ about six years old^ clasping to her breast 
a battered doll, stood before them — Page 51 


Kittyboy’s Christmas 



Kittyboy’s Christmas 


By 

. 

Amy Ef *^Blanchard 

Author of ‘'Two Girls,” “Taking a Stand,” 
“A Dear Little Girl,” etc. 

Illustrated by 

IDA WAUGH 


PHILADELPHIA 
GEORGE W. JACOBS & CO. 
1898 


PX7 
,13 S^K 


i ^46:6^ 

Copyright by 

GEORGE W. JACOBS & CO. 
189S 



2nd CO.^V, 
1S98. 


TWO COPIES RECEIVED. 



CHAPTER I 

ITTYBOY was lost. It was an evi- 



dent fact. He stood on the corner 


of the alley which led into a wide street to 
which he had been chased by an aggres- 
sive dog, and with every hair bristling, 
looked around for a friendly door, but they 
were all shut closely ; and the snow was 
beginning to fall, in an uncertain way, just 
a flake here and there, displaying exqui- 
sitely perfect crystals on the stone steps 
and the brick pavement, then melting away 
very slowly. 

Kittyboy tucked his four small paws 
neatly under him, and crouched in a cor- 


7 


8 Kittyboy’s Christmas 

ner, once in a while giving a plaintive little 
“ meow,” which no one noticed, if any one 
heard. Yet, after all, Kittyboy’s losing of 
himself was not such a dreadful thing, for 
he was always being kicked aside as a 
troublesome beast, even before his little 
mistress, Annie Brady, was sent away to a 
Home, being considered by her uncle’s 
family in the light of a nuisance, quite as 
great as Kittyboy himself. Nevertheless, 
in spite of his rather unpleasant experi- 
ences in the world, Kittyboy was full of a 
happy confidence in humanity scarcely to 
be expected. So, presently seeing a figure 
coming up the street, he rose from his 
compact attitude and ran along by the' 
railing of an area, rubbing his sides against 
the narrow bars, and finally followed the 
figure up the broad steps ; then, as the 
latch-key was turned in the door, he saw 
his opportunity, and slipped in. 


Kittyboy’s Christmas 9 

It was rather late ; eleven o'clock or 
more, and getting colder every minute. 
The house was very quiet, no one astir 
anywhere ; a light, however, was burning 
in one room, where a warm fire blazed 
in the open grate, the sight of which 
so delighted Kittyboy that he began to 
purr contentedly. The light, now turned 
up, showed more distinctly what manner 
of person it was Avhom Kittyboy had fol- 
lowed: an elderly man, with keen, sharp 
eyes ; he was somewhat portly, was well 
dressed, and brisk in his movements. 
Kittyboy’s little black form, snuggled in 
one corner, where he sat blinking at the 
fire, was not noticed by this other occu- 
pant of the room, who, lighting a cigar, 
sat down by a table, stretched out his 
legs comfortably, and unfolded the evening 
paper. 

Presently, the sharp sound of a coal 


lo Kittyboy’s Christmas 

dropping on the polished hearth disturbed 
Kittyboy’s nap, and he jumped up, with 
visions of whips cracking over his head, 
and gave a leap away from the fire. The 
sharp noise also attracted the attention 
of the reader, who looked over the top 
of his newspaper to see four little furry 
feet daintily stepping across the rug. 

“ What are you doing here ! Get out, 
cat ! ” came an exclamation in so much 
milder language than that to which Kitty- 
boy was accustomed, that he considered it 
in the light of an overture, and springing 
up on the arm of the chair, in which this 
new acquaintance was sitting, he pro- 
ceeded to play with the newspaper, pat- 
ting the two sides, with ears very much 
forward, and an alert look on the wise 
little face, as if in momentary expectation 
of seeing a mouse jump out from the 
folds of the sheet. 


Kittyboy’s Christmas 1 1 

The very audacity of the performance 
tickled the man’s fancy. “You impudent 
little beast,” he said ; “how did you get in 
here, anyhow ? Aha ! I know. I believe I 
saw you as I came up the steps. You 
must have slipped in behind me. But this 
will never do ; you will have to get out 
again. No cats allowed in my house.” 

For answer, Kittyboy began to rub his 
head against the arm nearest him, purring 
softly. 

The man regarded him less severely. 
“If I’m going to turn you out, I may as 
Avell give you something to eat. You are 
none too well fed, I see,” he I'emarked ; 
and, rising, he took his way to another 
room, where, after hunting around, he 
found in the larder a pitcher of cream, set 
away by the housekeeper for her master’s 
morning coffee. All unconscious of bring- 
ing dismay to the worthy woman. Dr. 


1 2 Kittyboy’s Christmas 

Brewster emptied the contents of the 
pitcher in a saucer and set it down, watch- 
ing Kittyboy eagerly lap up this unex- 
pected treat. 

“ Now you must go,” said the doctor ; 
and Kittyboy followed confidently at his 
heels. But the draught of icy wind which 
greeted him as the front door was opened, 
caused the little fellow to scamper back to 
the library, where, before the open fire, he 
again sat down and began complacently to 
wash his face. 

Back into the room came Dr. Brew- 
ster, laughing in spite of himself. “You 
are a sly little rascal,” he said ; “ come, 
come,” and he picked up the unresisting 
little creature, which cuddled down com- 
fortably in his arms, as if it were beyond 
the bounds of possibility that a second 
attempt should be made to put him out, 
and the good doctor actually began to 


Kittyboy’s Christmas 1 3 

have compunctions. “ I always vowed I’d 
never have a cat in the house,” he said, 
under his breath; “am I to give in at 
this late day? Well ! you audacious little 
wretch. I’ll let you stay till morning. It’s 
too cold a night to turn any creature out of 
doors,” and Kitty boy’s triumph was com- 
plete when he was put down on the hearth- 
rug and allowed to continue his ablutions, 
while the doctor resumed his paper. 

But it was strange that the presence 
of a little black cat could turn a sober 
man’s interest from foreign news and the 
quotations of the stock market, and that 
he should have found himself dwelling on 
the memory of two little eager faces which 
he had seen that day gazing into a win- 
dow decked out with Christmas toys, and, 
furthermore, that twice he should have 
read over an item which went as follows : 

“ Every year, about Christmas time, a 


14 Kittyboy’s Christmas 

number of letters find their way to the 
Post Office ; they are variously addressed 
to Santa Claus, Kris Kringle, or St. Nich- 
olas, and are the outcome of childish faith. 
One is forced to wonder how often they 
must be followed by disappointment, since 
there can appear no claimant for them.” 

The doctor, we have said, read the 
paragraph twice over, and then, lowering 
his paper, sat looking thoughtfully into the 
fire. After a Avhile a smile broke over his 
face, and he returned to his sheet. But 
the smile did not leave his lips till he 
extinguished the light and went to his 
room, leaving the sleeping Kittyboy curled 
up on the hearth-rug in a condition of 
delicious warmth and comfort. 

When, the next morning, at the sight 
of buckets and brooms brought in by 
the housemaid, Kittyboy scampered out, it 
was to find refuge in the dining-room, just 


Kittyboy’s Christmas i 5 

as the doctor opened the door to go to his 
breakfast. This time Kittyboy was not 
driven out, for the cheery waitress said, 
“ It brings good luck, doctor, sorr, to have 
a cat come to the house, especially a black 
cat.” And by the time the doctor had 
finished, indulgently feeding Kittyboy with 
bits from his own plate, and Kittyboy had 
responded by such antics as kept the doc- 
tor laughing, it was an understood thing 
that the little cat was fairly adopted into 
the family. 

The invasion of a common little street 
cat into the bachelor’s household quite 
scandalized the good housekeeper, who 
could not get it out of her head that Kitty- 
boy had in some way purloined the cream, 
but, said the cheerful Maggie, “It’s far too 
quiet here to suit me, and the doctor actu- 
ally ate his breakfast this morning without 
the paper at his elbow. I certainly am 


1 6 Kittyboy’s Christmas 

glad to see some sort of a young creature 
about the house.” The housekeeper gave 
a sniff, but even she smiled furtively a 
moment later at sight of Kittyboy wildly 
chasing his tail. 

Buttoning himself up well in his over- 
coat, the doctor, after breakfast, took his 
way down, town, and went straight to the 
city Post Office. He did not stop as he 
passed through the long corridor till he 
reached the private office of the Postmas- 
ter himself. 

“ Hello, Brewster, what brings you 
here so early?” questioned that worthy, 
looking up from his desk. “ Haven’t any 
complaints to make about Uncle Sam’s 
mail, have you ? Don’t be too hard on 
us if things aren’t just on time. There is 
a great rush from now till after the holi- 
days, and you old bachelors are so 
methodical that, if a letter is a minute 


Kittyboy’s Christmas 17 

and a quarter late, you think the entire 
Post Office system is tottering. Sit down.” 

“No,” replied the doctor. “I didn’t 
come to complain. Hardy, I came to see if 
I could collect the mail for Santa Claus.” 

Mr. Hardy put down his pen, and 
stared at his visitor. “ What are you 
driving at, anyhow?” he asked. “Oh, I 
see ; some charity Christmas tree, or 
something. Plow much will let me off, 
doc?” 

The doctor smiled. “ I’m not on that 
errand at all. I simply want to know if it 
is possible to have any letters, now lying 
in this office, addressed to Santa Claus, 
delivered to me ? ” 

Mr. Hardy looked thoughtful for a 
moment. “Are there any such letters ? ” 
he then asked. 

The doctor felt in his pocket for the 
last evening’s paper, which he had taken 


1 8 Kittyboy’s Christmas 

the precaution to carry with him, and 
silently pointed out the paragraph he had 
read the night before. 

Mr. Hardy nodded understandingly. 
“ I don’t see why you shouldn’t have 
them,” he replied finally ; “ I’ll get them for 
you, doc, if it’s possible,” and, leaving the 
office, he presently returned with about 
half a dozen letters, which he handed to his 
friend. “There you are,” he said. “No 
need to ask what you’re going to do with 
them. It’s just like the things you used 
to do when we were lads. It takes me 
back to the old days when Christmas comes 
around. Come up and see us, doc ; the 
latch string is always out,” and he turned 
to his desk, as the doctor with his budget 
left the room. 

The latter went directly to his club, 
and opened the funny, smudgy little notes. 
Some of them printed; some sprawled 


Kittyboy’s Christmas 19 

across a wide page, some very zig-zag and 
uncertain. 

Don t, good Santa Claus, for get 
our corner f read one, 2 outh and 
Purl street, if you can t git down the 
chimney cause they are reggyters 
come in the window, well leave it a 
little bit open so you can hist it easy. 

‘‘Bob/’ 

“ That youngster’s all right,” nodded 
the doctor. “I know the locality, and 
there’s not a doubt but that his stocking 
will be well-filled.” 

The next was printed. 

“ / am a good girl bring me the 
doll Fill wants a bozv narrow,'" 

— but there was no address, and this, too, 
was laid aside. 

Then came a queer little, half-printed, 
half-written epistle : 


20 Kitty boy’s Christmas 

“ Dear Santa : I want a new 
papa and a new kitten. Conny says 
kittens are easy enuff to get, but 
papas are much harder and very 
spensive. but I dont want just any 
kitten please, cause my dear yollity 
was black and all the kittens this year 
are grey, if you have any black ones 
to spare please bring me one and a 
papa with a red ribbon around its 
neck, dont go to grandpas at Fort 
wurth where we were last year cause 
we aint there now we are at 6 lo west 
12 street. Elinor Temple.” 

As the doctor read the signature a red 
flush mounted to his forehead, and he cast 
a confused look around him ; then he 
slipped the letter into his pocket, took two 
or three turns up and down the room, and 
returned to his examination of the rest of 
the mail 


Kittyboy’s Christmas 21 

The last two letters were pitiful appeals 
from homes of want and misery ; timid little 
requests, full of childish faith, which made 
the doctor shake his head and blink his 
eyes, frowning the while. These letters 
he also put aside, and then paced the floor 
in deep thought. 




CHAPTER II 

T T was high noon when he turned toward 
home. Pie had forgotten all about 
Kittyboy, but when the confident little 
beastie came rubbing up against him, pur- 
ring softly, the doctor smiled, as if a sud- 
den thought had struck him, and stooping 
down, he rubbed Kittyboy’s head ; after 
which performance the artful little creature 
rolled over on his back, and turned his 
gold-colored eyes upon the doctor, inviting 
a frolic ; then up and away he scudded, 
with arched back and curved tail, the very 
embodiment of a witch’s familiar. 

“You little imp of darkness!” cried 

22 


Kittyboy’s Christmas 23 

the doctor. Such capers In the house of 
a sober bachelor! You’ll be occupying 
my bedroom next and calling It your 
own.” A prediction which speedily came 
true, for that very night KIttyboy slyly 
crept up behind the doctor, and, hiding 
himself, craftily bided his time, and in the 
dead of night stole forth and curled him- 
self up on the foot of the bed, waking the 
doctor in the morning by licking his hand 
with a red, rough, little tongue. And 
then followed wild, frantic gambols, danc- 
ing and prancing over everything ; coquett- 
ings with the tassels of a dressing gown ; 
tussles with a slipper ; mock fears of a 
very innocent reflection In the glass ; deli- 
cate tip-toeings about the dressing table, 
with attempts to pry into every box and 
drawer ; then one leap into the air and a 
waltzing after a little black tall whose 
existence KIttyboy seemed only that 


24 Kittyboy’s Christmas 

moment to have discovered. All this so 
entertained the doctor, that he lay in bed 
shaking with laughter at the absurd antics, 
and went down to breakfast with Kittyboy 
on his shoulder. 

After this it was evident that Kittyboy 
considered the second-story front bed- 
room as his own. To be sure he gener- 
ously allowed Dr. Brewster to share it, to 
occupy the bed, if he were not in the mid- 
dle of it ; or the doctor might sit in any 
comfortable chair for which Kittyboy had 
no immediate use ; but the lordly little 
creature took possession so absolutely 
that the doctor’s sense of humor was 
greatly tickled by this overweening com- 
placency and confidence, and he meekly 
took another chair when Kittyboy occu- 
pied the better one, or, indeed, moved 
over to the right side of the bed if Kitty- 
boy preferred the left. 


Kittyboy’s Christmas 25 

It was the evening of the day which 
had seen the doctor at the Post Office. It 
seemed to him that it had been many 
more than twenty-four hours since the sly 
little cat had followed him indoors, and had 
ingratiated himself into the good man’s 
favor. Already the doctor was making 
a confidant of this same little waif. 

“What would you do about it, you 
little limb of Satan ?” he asked, as he 
opened the letter he had so carefully put 
aside that morning. “ Come, you shall 
decide. Let us see what sort of oracle 
you can make. You started this, anyhow, 
as I remember. Now get me out of it, if 
you can.” 

Kittyboy winked soberly, as the doc- 
tor thus addressed him, but looked very 
wise, as if he knew much more than he 
proposed to tell. 

The doctor softly stroked the black 


26 Kittyboy’s Christmas 

fur, which was less rough than it had been 
the day before. “ Shall I go or not ? ” he 
asked. “You can advise, and then, like 
others in the same position. I’ll do as I 
choose. Here is the letter.” He shook 
it at the little creature, who grabbed it in 
both paws, rolled over with it once or 
twice, then taking it in his mouth he 
jumped down from the table and walked 
off with his prize to the chair where a soft 
felt hat of the doctor’s was lying. Into 
this jumped Kittyboy, letter and all, and, 
curling himself up, looked with a knowing 
wink at the man who was watching him. 

“ Nothing could be plainer,” laughed 
the doctor. “ Go is the word. Pick up 
your hat and its contents, you say. Here 
we are, take us and go. Such wisdom ! 
For real out and out witchcraft, commend 
me to a black cat. Ah, Kittyboy, it is well 
you did not live in the time of those old 


I 








“ Into this jumped Kittyhoy ^^ — Page 26 








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Kittyboy’s Christmas 27 

fellows, my ancestors, Wrastling Brewster 
and Preserved Fish, and the rest, or we’d 
both be strung up for practicing the 
black arts, although such names as they 
had were enough to choke them without 
hanging. 

“Well, my small wizard, go it is, since 
your suggestion suits my inclination ; who 
knows ? who knows ? ” He sat absently 
stroking the little cat, who had returned 
to the table, and it was evident that some- 
thing had given him food for deep, and 
not altogether unpleasant, reflection, for 
the evening paper lay untouched, and the 
open fire seemed to hold the man’s fixed 
attention. Was it Kittyboy’s sorceries 
that caused past events to rise as flames 
from ashes, to add a new warmth to a half- 
chilled memory ? 

The next morning it was that Dr. 
Brewster turned his steps toward a quiet 


2 8 Kittyboy’s Christmas 

street in a modest quarter of the city. An 
open square gave a pleasant, airy appear- 
ance to the neighborhood. The sun was 
shining brightly, but the air was frosty, and 
the doctor stepped along briskly. His foot- 
steps did not falter until he reached the 
house, 6io West Twelfth Street, and then 
for a moment he paused, taking off his 
hat and wiping his brow as if it were a 
warm day. Immediately after, however, 
he mounted the steps with a firm step and 
gave the bell a vigorous pull. It was 
answered by a neat maid, who paused 
expectantly for the card, which the doctor 
did not produce. “Tell Mrs. Temple a 
friend wishes to see her,” was his message. 

He was ushered into a small room, 
which was warm and cosy. A fire glowed 
in a Baltimore heater. There were pretty, 
tasteful articles scattered about, which 
gave the room a cheerful, homelike look. 


Kittyboy’s Christmas 29 

The doctor picked up a book from the 
table, put it down again, nervously took 
two or three turns up and down the floor, 
and finally stationed himself, with his hands 
behind him, at one of the windows, fixing 
his eyes upon the street. 

Presently some one entered, and a soft 
voice said, “ You wished to see me ? ” 

The doctor turned abruptly, and held 
out his hand to the tall, fair woman who 
stood before him. “ Elinor,” he said, — 
the color mounted to the lady’s cheek, — 
“Dr. Brewster,” she faltered. “How — 
where did you learn of me ? ” 

“At the club,” replied the doctor, 
gravely and truthfully. 

“It is truly good to see an old friend,” 
continued Mrs. Temple. “You know — 
you have heard.” 

“I know nothing but that you are 
here,” answered the doctor. 


30 Kittyboy’s Christmas 

“My husband died two years ago,” 
went on Mrs. Temple. “ He was very good 
to me, and he idolized our little daughter.” 
Her eyes dropped before the doctor’s 
earnest gaze, but they had already told 
that which the doctor had for so many 
years longed to know, whether in marrying 
big, wealthy, dissipated Captain Temple, 
Elinor Arsquith had pleased merely her- 
self, or whether to spare her father’s good 
name she had sacrificed her girlhood. 

He drew in his breath quickly, and for 
a moment no word was spoken between 
them. 

“And your little girl?” asked the 
doctor, breaking the silence. 

“ She is with me here. I lost two little 
ones in Texas, and Elinor is all I have left. 
I felt that for her sake I must seek a differ- 
ent climate, and that is why I am here.” 

At that moment the curtains before the 


Kittyboy’s Christmas 3 1 

door parted, and a small figure appeared. 
A solemn-faced little midget, about six 
years old, clasping to her breast a battered 
doll, stood before them. 

‘‘ Come in, dear, and speak to the 
doctor,’' Mrs. Temple said, glad of an 
interruption to a conversation which was 
becoming embarrassing. 

The little one advanced slowly, till she 
stood by the doctor’s side. “ Must I put 
out my tongue ? ” she asked. 

The doctor smiled. No, I think I 
wouldn’t. It’s pretty cold for even a tongue 
to be out to-day.” 

The child laughed merrily. I wanted 
to go and buy mamma a little bunch of 
vi’lets, but she said I would freeze my 
nose off, and I wouldn’t be pretty without 
any nose, would I ?” Then, glancing down 
at her dilapidated, noseless doll, she looked 
a little abashed. ''Excuse me, Lily,” she 


3 2 Kittyboy’s Christmas 

said gravely ; “I didn’t mean to hurt your 
feelings. I love you just as much as if 
you had as big a nose as the doctor’s. 
I didn’t have any money In my bank, any- 
how,” she continued, “ and mamma could 
not spare any five centses. You know 
we aren’t rich any more. I ’spect the 
flowers are frozen up, anyway.” 

“I’ll get the violets for you,” said the 
doctor, without looking at Mrs. Temple. 
“ I know a nice, warm place where they 
live, and if you’ll trust me I think I can 
find some some fresh, sweet ones.” 

Elinor clasped her hands. “You’re 
very nice,” she assured him. “And if you 
won’t give me any nasty medicine. Til 
love you very much.” 

“ I promise no nasty medicine,” agreed 
the doctor, and their friendship was sealed. 
So well did it proceed that when the doc- 
tor took his leave, an hour later, Elinor 


Kittyboy’s Christmas 33 

hugged him frantically, saying, “ Doctor, 
come to-morrow. I get so lonely, and so 
does mamma. I wish you’d come every 
day,” and the doctor’s smile answered the 
suggestion. 

“ Mamma,” said the child, after the 
doctor had left them, “is that a very nice 
man ?” 

“Why, darling; yes — of course — yes 
— he is very nice.” 

“ I fought so,” she returned confi- 
dently. “ Is he very ’spensive ?” 

“ Oh, you mean — wealthy. I think 
so, enough so, at all events. What 
funny questions. Why do you want to 
know ?” 

“Just ’cause I like to ask funny ques- 
tions. Mamma, do you like bread ?” 

“ Why, you midget, you are just ask- 
ing questions to tease your mudder. You 
know I like bread.” 


34 Kittyboy’s Christmas 

Elinor laughed gleefully, and looked 
down at her doll. “ Lily told me a secret 
to-day,” she said, “ and she won’t let me 
tell till Christmas. It’s a very nice one, 
but I can’t tell you, mamma.” 

“ Very well. I will wait till Christ- 
mas.” 

“ Don’t you want to know it ?” the 
child asked, anxiously. 

“ Not if you don’t want to tell it ?” 

“ But I do, only Lily won’t let me. 
Mamma, this morning I was a kitten.” 

“You were ? I didn’t discover it.” 

“ I was. I had a red ribbon round my 
neck, and I was black, and Lily was Elinor 
Temple, and she played with me. See 
where I scratched her. Do you want me 
to be a kitten for you, mamma ?” 

“ Not if you scratch, nor if you have 
to turn black.” 

That amused Elinor greatly. 


Kittyboy’s Christmas 35 

“ I doesn’t have to. I’ve just make- 
believe claws. Mamma, are you going to 
take me to church on Christmas ? ” 

“ Why, of course. Don’t you want 
to go ? ” 

“ I didn’t last Sunday ; it was so long. 
The man in the white gown said so much. 
I fink he was a chatterbox.” 

“ Why, Elinor ! what a thing to say 
about the good rector.” 

"Well, mamma, it is what you say 
about me when I talk a long time, and 
you love me.” 

Mrs. Temple smiled. “ Then you don’t 
want to go to church on Christmas ? ” 

" Oh, but I do ; I like to hear the little 
boys sing, and I like to see the green 
things, but ” 

“ You get tired sitting so long ? ” 

“ Oh, no, mamma ; I couldn’t get tired ; 
I get too much rested.” 


36 Kittyboy’s Christmas 

“ I see. Well, dearie, we will go to 
the early service, which is not so long.” 

“And then come home and have the 
Santa Claus part of it for dessert ; that 
will be nice. I wish the doctor would 
come soon ; I want to ask him somefing.” 

The doctor did come soon. Indeed, 
there was scarcely a day after this which 
did not see his stalwart form turning into 
the quiet street, and the affection between 
the grave man and the pretty child grew 
apace, so that many confidences passed 
between them. 




CHAPTER III 

/^NE afternoon the two were cosily 
occupying one big chair, in the 
absence of Mrs. Temple, who was glad to 
leave her treasure so well satisfied to 
stay at home, while she attended to some 
Christmas shopping. 

Let's talk about Christmas/' said 
Elinor, cuddling down by the side of the 
doctor, after watching her mother out of 
sight. 

Isn't there a Santa Claus?" she 
asked. 

“ So I have always been told." 

“ There, I said so ; Bill says there isn't." 

37 


38 Kittyboy’s Christmas 

“ And who is Bill ? ” 

“ Oh, a friend of mine,” returned Elinor, 
jauntily. 

“ I should like to know something about 
him.” 

“ Oh. he’s just a boy with ” she 

clapped her hands over her mouth, and 
looked, with eyes full of laughter, at the 
doctor. 

“What?” 

“ Oh, doctor, it isn’t nice to make 
remarks about the dress of your friends,” 
returned the little monkey, drawing down 
her mouth demurely, and looking up 
mischievously from under her long 
lashes. 

“ Then suppose we don’t mention his 
dress. Tell me something else about 
him.” 

“ He has a very dirty face,” said Elinor, 
with a little chuckle. 


Kittyboy’s Christmas 39 

“ He has ? That is unfortunate. Why 
doesn’t he wash it ? ” 

“ I reckon ’cause he hasn’t any soap or 
towels.” 

“ But he can get water easily.” 

“ Yes ; but, doctor, don’t you know how 
horrid it is to have your face washed, and 
to stand with it all dripping, ’specially in 
cold weather? and if you had no towel, 
you know, you wouldn’t want to wash your 
face, either.” 

“ Perhaps not. Well, Bill is a boy with 
a dirty face. Is that all ? Has he nothing 
else to boast of ? ” 

“Yes; he has a sister named Gerty. 
I s’pose she has a dirty face, too. I never 
saw her, ’cause she’s got the rickets, and 
her grandfather has had yaller janders ; but 
they is about gone. I think they must be 
rather pretty, don’t you ? ” 

“What?” 


40 Kittyboy’s Christmas 

“ Why, the yaller janders. It sounds 
like some sort of a flower, I always fink of 
— what are the yellow fings that come in 
the spring — the early ones ? ” 

“ Dafibdils ? ” 

Elinor shook her head. “ Not zactly ; 
mamma said they were about the same.” 

“ Oh, jonquils.” 

“Yes, that’s it; are they anything 
alike?” 

“ Like what ? Daffodils ? ” 

“ No ; like yaller janders. Are yaller 
jonquils anything like them ?” 

“ No. I can’t say that they are.” 

“ Have you any at your house ? ” 

The doctor laughed — “Fortunately, no, 
I know of none nearer than a hospital.” 

“ Oh, do they grow in hospitals ? ” 

“ Sometimes.” 

“Will you take me there and show them 
to me ? ” 


Kittyboy’s Christmas 41 

“ I don’t believe you would be particu- 
larly pleased to see anyone with what Bill 
calls ‘yaller janders.’ ” 

“Why not ? ” 

“ Because it is not a very pleasant dis- 
ease to gaze upon.” 

“Is it a sickness? Oh, I’m so disy- 
pointed. I fought they were flowers, and 
I was so glad the old grandfather had 
them. That’s a dreffel disypointment,” 
she added, after a moment’s silence. 

“ But you have not told me about 
Bill,” the doctor reminded her. “ Where 
did you meet him — at a party ? ” 

“ No-o,” contemptuously. “ I met him 
in the square. He sells vi’lets. I reckon 
that’s why I fought his grandfather had 
flowers — yaller jander flowers. — Is bron- 
icles flowers ? ” 

“ I never heard of them.” 

“ Oh, dear, I s’pect that’s another dis- 


42 Kittyboy’s Christmas 

ease. You see it fooled me to see Bill 
selling vi’lets. I kind of fought he had a 
big garden full, or his grandfather had. 
He said his grandfather used to go out 
selling flowers till sumfing got the matter 
with his bronicles, and they couldn’t stand 
the east wind.” 

The doctor laughed so heartily that 
Elinor looked quite aggrieved, 

“ I’ll not tell you any more,” she said, 
“ if you make fun of me, and I was going 
to tell you lots.” 

“Oh, please pardon my laughter. I’ll 
try not to be so silly again. You see, I 
sometimes laugh at nothing at all. It is a 
habit I have formed from living alone.” 

Elinor looked at him very soberly. 
She wasn’t quite sure whether this was 
earnest or not, but his being alone seemed 
a sufficient excuse, and, morever, appealed 
to her sympathies, so she took hold of one 


Kittyboy’s Christmas 43 

of her friend’s big fingers, and held It 
confidingly. 

‘'Tell me truly, she said, “do you 
believe in Santa Claus?” 

“ Most certainly. I think he is the 
greatest invention of any age.” 

“ Oh, good ! That sounds so certain 
sure. That’s Avhat Connie says. I didn’t 
make It up. I did make up sumfing once.” 

“You did ? What was it ?” 

“A 1 don’t know what to call it. 

I’ll tell you, and then you’ll know.” She 
nestled her golden head against the doc- 
tor’s shoulder, and looked up in his face. 
“ I was jumping in the cellar one day 
with Ida Miller, and I made a tree-men- 
jus jump, and I said, ‘ Oh, Ida, I made a 
jump right smite the javelin.’ Don’t you 
fink that’s fine? I have said it over lots 
of times, ’cause I like the way it sounds, 
somefing like the Bible, you know.” 


4-4 Kittyboy’s Christmas 

“ 1 think it is one of the most grandilo- 
quent phrases I ever heard. You do not 
know how I admire it.” 

“ Do you, really?” 

“ Yes, really.” 

“ Then, I’m glad I told you. Now, I’ll 
tell you somefing else. It’s a secret, but 
Lily said I might tell you. She won’t let 
me tell mamma. It’s about Bill. Do you 
want to hear it ? ” 

“ Very much.” 

“ And you won’t tell ?” 

“ No.” 

“ Cross your heart ?” 

“Yes ; cross my heart.” 

“ Then, it is this : Bill said he didn’t 
believe there wa’n’t no Santa Claus. He 
said it just that way.” She stopped and 
looked searchingly at the doctor, but he 
was listening attentively. 

She gave her little mirthful chuckle 


Kittyboy’s Christmas 45 

and went on. “ Then I said, ‘ if you write 
to him, and he brings you what you ask, 
I reckon you’ll believe in him,’ and he said 
he’d be a blamed fool to do such a fing. 

He said blamed fool ” 

“ All right, he said blamed fool.” 

Elinor buried her head in the doctor’s 
sleeve and laughed silently. Then she 
looked up with eyes still full of mirth. 
“ That was so funny,” she said. 

“What was ?” 

“To hear you say blamed fool. Did 
you ever say it before ?” 

“ Perhaps.” 

“ Don’t you like to say it ? I do. I 
go off in the corner and say it to Lily 
sometimes, just ’cause I like to hear 
myself. Do you do that ?” 

“ Go off by myself and say it to Lily? 
I haven’t any Lily.” 

“ No, of course, but you might say it 


46 Kittyboy’s Christmas 

just the same to a chair — or — or anyfing. 
Mamma says it’s not nice for a lady to say 
it, and that’s why I’m doing it all I can 
now, ’cause I’ll be a lady some day, and 
then I can’t. There are lots of fings that 
way. Anyhow, Bill said it, and I told him 
he was an aggynorstic. That sounds like a 
dreadful word, but it isn’t, for I heard 
mamma call somebody that, and I asked 
her what it meant, and she said it 
meant a person that doesn’t believe. I 
fought it would scare Bill, for I fink 
it has a scary sound, like the day of 
wrath.” 

The doctor turned away his head, and, 
taking out his handkerchief, buried his face 
in it, a violent fit of coughing seeming to 
overtake him. 

Elinor looked quite alarmed, but the 
doctor assured her it was only a small 
matter, and though very red in the face. 




The ^Doctor turned away his head, and taking out his handkerchief , 
buried his face in it — Page 46 




















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Kittyboy’s Christmas 47 

he resumed a grave demeanor and asked 
Elinor to continue her tale. 

“Well, ’’she went on, “ ‘then Bill,’ Isaid, 
‘you’re an aggynorstic,’ and he stared at 
me so hard. ‘I don’t like aggynorstics,’ I 
said, and he said ‘ what’ll I do about it ?’ 
And I said, ‘you write to Santa Claus just 

like’ Oh, my! I was just going to 

tell such a precious secret. I won’t, 
though Anyhow, I made him prom- 

ise he’d write to Santa Claus if I’d buy 
vi’lets whenever I had any money in my 
bank. And he did write, and now I 
reckon he’ll find out. He’s real e’ cited 
over it.” 

“And where docs he live ? ” 

“ Oh, back in a little street that runs 
skwy-eyed, Connie says, across this. It’s a 
horrid little street, and mamma won’t let 
me go there, but I know where it Is.” 

“And where does Bill sell his violets?” 


4-8 Kittyboy’s Christmas 

“In the square, by the fountain. He 
has beautiful red hair and the loveliest 
freckles you ever saw. I wish I had freckles 
and red hair ; don’t you ? ” 

“ I can’t say that I do desire them 
greatly, and I’m sure I like you much 
better as you are.” 

“Do you ? Well, maybe you do, but 
I don’t. Do you fink Santa Claus got 
Bill’s letter? I hope he did, for it seems 
dreadful for anyone to have no Santa Claus 
and no Christmas ; it makes me feel sorry 
inside, as if I had eaten too many cakes. 
Do you fink he got it? ” 

“ That depends upon where he mailed 
it.” 

“ Why, in the post-office box, of course. 
The one on the corner, by the square, that 
says U. S. mail on it. What makes them 
turn it hind part before ? Why don’t they 
say mail us ? It means the letters you put 


KitLyboy’s Christmas 49 

in, of course. It’s so the man with the 
funny little wagon will know.” 

The doctor frowned ; then he laughed. 
It was such a funny translation of the U. S. 
mail. But just such fantastic ideas he 
knew took possession of the child. “ That’s 
all right,” he said. “Uncle Sam does put 
things wrong-end-foremost sometimes. 
You tell Bill that if he put his letter in the 
box there’s not the slightest doubt but that 
it will be answered.” 

“ I saw him put it in. He showed it 
to me, and I went with him to mail it. He 
can write pretty well, for he went to school 
before that time ; about — about the bron- 
icles, you know.” 

The doctor nodded understandingly. 

“ Do you believe Santa Claus will have 
enough turkeys to go around ? Mamma 
says, if he hasn’t, I may send Bill and 
Gerty some of mine. I’m going to try to 


50 Kittyboy’s Christrias 

eat a very little piece, but I like turkey, 
and I hope Bill and Gerty will have a whole 
one to themselves, and I hope Gerty will 
get a doll, and If she doesn’t. I’ll have to 
send her the one Santa Claus brings me.” 

“ Why would you have to ? ” 

“Why, ’cause I wouldn’t be such a 
keep two, and she not 
have any. It wouldn’t be nice of me, 
when I have Lily. Could you have lots 
of fings when you knew somebody else 
didn’t have any ? ” 

This was a home thrust, made so truth- 
fully and innocently that the doctor won- 
dered why all these years’ Christmastide 
had not brought home to him such a 
reproach. He had eaten, drunken, been 
comfortable and care free, while just such 
opportunities had been waiting for him as 
this year offered. 

“Well,” he said, as he took his de- 


Kittyboy’s Christmas 5 1 

parture, '' it’s all right about Santa Claus, 
you tell Bill.” 

'‘And you won’t tell anyone,” whis- 
pered Elinor. 

He assured her that the secret was 
safe, and went off with a very warm feel- 
ing inside. There seemed to be an expan- 
siveness of light in the setting sun ; a 
brightness about existence in general, 
which even cases of " yaller janders ” 
and weak " bronicles ” could not over- 
shadow. 



CHAPTER IV 


“T MUST look after that family, mused 
the doctor. “ Bless the young things ! 
a frolicsome kitten and a little earnest child, 
full of faith and love of human kind, can 
be wonderful factors in the matter of hap- 
piness. .Strange how I have gone along 
missing both and not knowing what I 
missed. Let me see. I’ll send Hooper to 
look after grandfather’s ‘bronicles;’ he 
smiled broadly at the remembrance of the 
garbled word. I’d rather not have the 
little one know that I’ve a hand in it, and 
’twill be good for Hooper to try his hand 
at that sort of thing. Let me see if that 


Kittyboy’s Christmas 53 

youngster’s letter reached its proper desti- 
nation.” He stopped and pulled out the 
packet he carried. 

Yes, there it was, signed “ Bill.” The 
doctor stood and read the poor smudgy, 
mis-spelled little missive over, put it back 
in his pocket, and walked thoughtfully on, 
not knowing that at that very moment he 
was passing the writer, who, with his mea- 
gre supply of wan-looking violets, was 
offering them for sale. 

Bill as little knew that the letter over 
which he had spent much thought and 
hard labor was resting in the doctor’s 
pocket, for he imagined it to be in the 
hands of a red-nosed, white-haired indi- 
vidual, with a jolly countenance and a 
twinkling eye — such a one as could be 
seen, more or less realistically represented 
in shop windows. A very different look- 
ing person, indeed, from this portly, pros- 


54 Kittyboy’s Christmas 

perous-appearing man with the keen eyes, 
who wore “ swagger clothes, and didn’t 
care nothin’ fer poor cusses, or he’d ’a 
bought somethin’ from a feller.” Bill’s ire 
was roused by this kind of person, so indif- 
ferent and absent-minded, as never even 
to glance at the violets, nor give a regret- 
ful negative, as some nice ladies did. 

“Talk about old Santa Claus,” mut- 
tered Bill, “ if he is anybody at all, he ain’t 
friends to nobody but rich folks ; that’s 
what I say. I ain’t never heard from him, an’ 
I guess I ain’t never goin’ to, what’s more.” 

But, as if to chide his lack of faith, 
Elinor herself appeared like a reproving 
angel at his side. “ Bill,” she said, stand- 
ing on tip-toe that she might see the box- 
cover in which the violets lay, “ Bill, have 
you sold lots to-day?” 

“No, I ain’t,” he answered, rather 
crossly. 


Kittyboy’s Christmas 55 

“ Oh, then, I can spend all these five 
centses. The doctor picked them all out of 
his pocket for me, and told me to buy 
vi’lets for mamma. So, I have to. Ten 
five centses, see. I told mamma I would 
come right back. She is watching out of 
the window for me.” 

Bill’s face took on a little sunshine. 
Ten bunches ! Why, it would nearly clean 
out his stock. What luck ! 

“ Say,” he said, in a low voice, “ ’bout 
that Santa Claus, you know. Time’s gittin’ 
dost.” 

“Yes,” said Elinor, eagerly holding 
out her hands to receive the violets. 

“ I don’t believe he comes to poor 
folks,” continued Bill ; “mind, I don’t say 
there ain’t no Santa Claus ; but I say he 
ain’t no friend o’ folks what lives in 
Hitchen’s court.” 

“ Oh, but he is. Dr. Brewster says so, 


56 Kittyboy’s Christmas 

and he knows everyfing — he does truly — - 
and he told me to tell you that there was 
a Santa Claus, really, really.” Bill stared 
at the ground. “And he said if you put 
your letter in the box, Santa Claus will 
surely get it there, and you will get an 
answer. So, now,” and she walked off 
with a little switch of her skirts, and a 
decided sort of air, as she would say there 
was no further doubt possible. 

Bill looked after her. Ten bunches of 
violets meant a corresponding amount of 
faith, and an hour later an empty box lid 
went home with him. But the very fact of 
the emptiness of the box cover meant a 
fullness of belief. And Gerty ; poor little, 
rickety Gerty, also received a prop to her 
faltering hopes in Bill’s words. “They 
are a Sandy Claus, Gert, sure as shootin’ ! 
A big bug what I knows about says so. 
Ain’t you glad ? ” 


Kittyboy’s Christmas 57 

“Are you goin’ to believe in him ? ” 
asked Gerty, in an excited whisper. 

“Yes, I am,” sturdily returned Bill. 

“ So’m I, then,” answered Gerty. “ I’m 
goin’ to believe he’ll bring me a doll, and 
a — a orange, and a — a new frock, and a — a 
picture book and candy, and — ” her whisper 
rose shrilly as she became more ambitious, 
“and a — a turkey!” The climax was 
reached. 

“Sho !” said Bill, doubtfully, “I don’t 
believe he’ll do all that.” 

“What’s the use of believing at all if 
you don’t believe he can do every bit?” 
returned Gerty, who did not regard half 
measures with favor. “ I’m goin’ to believe 
I’ll git it all — and more,” she added, with 
an extra touch of defiance of fate. 

Bill looked at her half-admiringly. Such 
temerity was beyond his mental stature, 
although, given a proper field for physical 


58 Kittyboy’s Christmas 

valor, and he’d show no white feather, as 
various urchins in the neighborhood could 
testify. 

“ How long is it before Christmas ? ” 
asked Gerty. “ Three days, ain’t it ? ” 
“’Bout that. Say, Gert, we ain’t ast 
fur nothin’ fur grandpop in that letter.” 

“ Why, yes, we did. We ast fur a doc- 
tor to cure his bronicles. Don’t you know ? ” 
“So we did. How is he?” 



“I don’t know, he’s kinder yaller yit, 
an’ he can’t eat much.” 

A sharp rap at the door interrupted 
them, and a smiling young man entered to 
to their “ Come in.” 

“ Is this — Bill? ” he asked. 

The boy nodded. 

“ Your grandfather, he’s ill ? ” 

“ Hm-hm,” returned Bill, looking sus- 
piciously at the visitor’s careful attire. 

“ Ah, yes.” The young man put up an 


Kittyboy’s Christmas 59 

eye-glass and peered around the dingy 
rooms, Bill meantime eying him, as much 
as to say, what business is it of yours how 
we look ? 

“ Could I see him ?” queried the young 
man. 

“ I dunno. See here. What d’yer 
want? I’ll pay yer rent. Yer needn’t go 
badgerin’ gran’pop about it.” 

The young man stared. “ Bless me, 
my son. I don’t want any rent. I’m,” he 
smiled, and whimsically took out his 
card case. “ Pardon me for not properly 
introducing myself. I am Dr. Hooper, and 
I have been asked to call professionally 
on your grandfather by a friend of his.” 

“ Whew !” Bill gave voice to a low 
whistle, and glanced at Gerty, who had 
taken the card with a funny little air of 
polite acceptance, and, at a word from her 
brother, led the way into a hole of a room. 


6o Kittyboy’s Christmas 

hardly more than a closet, where an old 
man lay. 

The doctor remained about fifteen or 
twenty minutes, and when he again came 
into the presence of the boy and his sister, 
he said ; 

“ I think your grandfather will be bet- 
ter under my immediate care, and I will see 
that he is removed — if — if you don’t object — 
to a pleasant room in a pleasant place.” 

“ An ’orspital ?” queried Gerty. 

The young man nodded. 

“Say, look here, he ain’t goin’ to no 
’orspital,” objected Bill. 

“ He is, too,” retorted Gerty ; then 
turning to the doctor, “You can take 
him.”- She gave the permission grandly. 
“ I know all about it and Bill don’t. I’ve 
seen one.” 

“ My son,” said the doctor, addressing 
Bill, “your sister is a person of unusual 


Kittyboy’s Christmas 6i 

acumen. She — she knows a good thing 
when she sees it. I give you my word that 
the friend of whom I spoke thoroughly 
approves of your grandfather’s removal.” 

And can’t we see him ?” asked Bill, 
looking very dubious. 

“ Bless you, yes, every day, if you want 

to.” 

“ And will you bring him back for 
Christmas?” asked Bill again. 

The doctor considered. “ If it is pos- 
sible. At least, I can promise you shall 
eat your Christmas dinner together.” 

The two children exchanged glances. 
The answer implied that there was to be a 
Christmas dinner. 

“I will come to-morrow morning in 
my carriage for him,” added the doctor. 
“ That is, if I may.” 

“Yer hear that, Gert ? A kerridge. 
Ain’t we swagger ?” and Bill laughed. 


62 Kittyboy’s Christmas 

He followed the young doctor to the 
door, and shut it after him as he went out- 
side. Plucking him by the sleeve, he asked 
in a low tone, “ Mister doctor, that there 
friend what sent you. Say, honest now, 
tell a fellow square. Was it old Sandy 
Claus ?” 

The doctor hesitated, looked down at 
the earnest, ugly little face, lighted up by 
a strong hope, its dirt and unhealthy 
color but dimly descried in the flaring 
light of the dingy court, and he felt a 
new concern for this “gutter-snipe” with 
whom he had suddenly come in contact. 
He laughed softly and said, “Yes ; you’re 
about right. Call him Santa Claus.” 

Bill went in and shut the door very 
solemnly. Things were happening mys- 
teriously, and he felt somewhat awed at 
what his experiences implied. 



CHAPTER V 


■pvR. Brewster received a call from his 
^ young assistant that same evening. 
He entered with a bored, blase air into the 
doctor’s study, and stood staring, and, 
slapping his gloves together as if he had 
not one single idea in his noddle. Then 
he spoke. 

“The old fellow — in Hitchen’s Court, 
you know — beastly dirty hole, by the way 
— he needs looking after, wants a sunny 
room and good nourishment, and all that 
sort of thing. He’ll get worse if he stays 
there. I’m going to take him to our hos- 
pital, if you don’t mind.” 


63 


64 Kittyboy’s Christmas 

“ Take him ? ” the doctor chuckled. 

The young man flushed, “Yes. Bah 
Jove ! I can’t see an old fellow like that, 
don’t you know, dying for want of a little 
attention. Now, doctor. I’m no charity 
fiend, but — I say, what are you chuckling 
about? ” 

“At your past record in the matter of 
pet charities, and your open expressions 
regarding those who have them. Go on, 
Sig, my dear fellow. You said you’d take 
him.” 

The young man flung off his overcoat, 
displaying his evening dress and the flower 
in his button-hole. “Yes, I said take him 
— in my carriage to-morrow morning.” 
He looked up, as if expecting protest. 

“ Bless you, man, I don’t object if you 
don’t,” returned the older man. “ He’s an 
old fraud, doubtless, has no ‘ bronicles ’ to 
speak of, and wouldn’t know ‘ yaller jan- 


Kittyboy’s Christmas 65 

ders ’ from scarlet fever. Where do you 
purpose placing him ? ” 

“ In the pay ward,” said the young 
doctor, defiantly. 

Dr. Brewster threw back his head and 
laughed. 

“ But, I say, doctor,” continued the 
other, “you ought to see him, such a piti- 
ful-looking, white-haired, old chap, with 
those kids on his hands for years. I say, 
he’s been handicapped, you know. And 
— Bah Jove ! doctor, what did you send 
me there for?” 

“ To see how you liked Hitchen’s 
Court.” 

The young man passed over the reply. 
“ I say it’s a beastly shame,” he went on. 
“ That old chap is a better fellow than I am 
any day, I say, there’s something wrong.” 
“ Desperately so, I grant you — with 


us. 


66 Kittyboy’s Christmas 

The young man looked up quickiy. 
“It’s beastly,” he repeated. 

“ you’re a huge joke,” laughed the 
doctor. “ Go ’long with you and your pau- 
pers. By the way, what about the children ?” 

The young man smiled broadly. “ They 
are a pair. I believe that poor little wretch 
of a red-headed snipe supports the family. 
Ah, doctor, I say we’re nowhere with my 
Lord William. Such airs ; bluffed me off 
at first.” 

He sat on the arm of the chair, 
swinging one foot thoughtfully. Dr. Brew- 
ster looked at him. Young, good-looking, 
rich ; what the public called “ a howling 
swell a dilettante in his profession, yet 
possessing ability, if but the proper motive 
stirred his impulses. He had been wont 
to maintain that half the world’s poor were 
whining impostors, and the other half 
incorrigible reprobates. 


Kittyboy’s Christmas 67 

The elder man watched him with a 
half smile. “ You’ll take the old man, then, 
and I’ll see to the young ones,” he 
remarked after a time. 

Sigourney Hooper slipped on his over- 
coat again. “ By the way,” he said, “ they 
think Santa Claus sent me,” and he gave a 
grin of amusement. 

Dr. Brewster looked grave. “ Who is 
Santa Claus, anyhow ? ” he returned. 
“The embodiment of goodness, charity 
and kindly feeling.” 

“ They were right, then,” replied Sigour- 
ney, holding out his hand. “We’ll have to 
give them a Christmas, doctor, for I prom- 
ised not to keep grandfather from the 
bosom of his family on that festal day. 
Holy Moses ! Festivities in that hole ! 
Ugh!” 

Dr. Brewster sat smiling to himself 
long after his visitor had departed. A 


68 Kittyboy’s Christmas 

wheel within a wheel, the ripples caused 
by the dropping of the smallest of pebbles ; 
the movings toward a broad humanity set 
astir by the prattle of a child ; by the 
instinctive appeal for warmth and protec- 
tion made by a little hunted animal ; the 
breath of the spirit on the face of the 
waters ! He pondered over these mysteri- 
ous forces, while Kittyboy purred content- 
edly at his elbow. 

Kittyboy fared well these days. He 
never failed to station himself by the 
doctor’s chair at meal time, and was so 
indulged in the matter of tid-bits that 
his coat grew as sleek as satin ; and if he 
had not been of such a very volatile tem- 
perament, it is quite likely that he would 
have become fat and lazy. 

The housekeeper confided to Maggie 
that something had made the doctor grow 
ten years younger, and the housemaid 


Kittyboy’s Christmas 69 

immediately attributed the fact to the 
presence of Kittyboy. Certain it is that 
the doctor busied himself with many things 
to which he had heretofore seemed indiffer- 
ent, and his sober establishment underwent 
all sorts of changes. “ All on account of 
the cat,” said Maggie. 

A well-to-do physician who has retained 
just enough practice to keep him contented 
is rather an enviable individual, and Dr. 
Brewster looked the picture of genial con- 
tent as he stepped into his carriage on 
Christmas Eve. Just where he went was 
best known to his coachman, w'ho had long 
ago learned the value of keeping his own 
counsel. But the faith in Santa Claus 
which that evening justified was felt in 
more than one wretched dwelling. Espe- 
cially did two anxious little souls, who had 
staked their last hope on the letter they 
had sent, feel that their mustard seed of 


70 Kittyboy’s Christmas 

belief had indeed grown to gigantic size 
when hampers and bundles from Santa 
Claus were displayed to their glad and 
astonished eyes 

“ Oh, Bill, I said I believed he’d bring all 
I wanted, and more,” cried Gerty, laughing 
and crying at the same time. “ And he 
did, he did. And grandpop’s gone to stay 
in that grand room and get well, and I’m 
goin’ to get well, and we’ve a whole turkey 
and fixins, Bill, fixins. I never said nothin’ 
about them. And gran’pop ’ll be here an’ 
help us eat it. An’, oh. Bill. They are a 
Sandy Claus, they are, ain’t they? ” 

“Well, I should smile,” replied Bill, 
surveying the bountiful supplies before 
him. 

“ An’ you’ll tell that little gal first thing, 
won’t you ? ” said Gerty. 

“Won’t I!” returned Bill, too happy 
for more speech. 


Kittyboy’s Christmas 71 

The doctor paced the floor a long time 
that night. He thought of many things ; 
of the dreary dwellings he had that day 
seen ; of the sorrowing poor ; of the little 
it had taken to make a few hearts glad, 
and most of all he thought of little Elinor 
Temple and her mother. He remembered 
a Christmas Eve which had promised him 
a great joy, but which had brought him a 
great sorrow — the sorrow which he had 
kept locked in his heart for fifteen long 
years. Not once had he faltered in his 
faith in the girl Avho had turned from the 
young physician, just starting on his career, 
and had married rollicking Captain Tem- 
ple. Dr. Brewster smiled sadly as he 
remembered how Mrs. Temple had said 
but the day before : “We sometimes make 
errors of judgment, but if we err from a 
mistaken motive of unselfishness, we suffer 
just the same.” And that had told the 


72 Kittyboy’s Christmas 

whole story. It was the only justification 
she had ever attempted, the only reference 
to what he knew she must have endured ; 
but he had inadvertently heard many things 
during these past weeks. He had re-read, 
with fresh delight, an old chapter in his life. 
He had opened his heart to the love of an 
innocent child, and the door being open, 
what else fair and beautiful might not find 
admittance. 

There was a rare exultation in the doc- 
tor’s smile, as the bells rang in the mid- 
night hour, and declared the promise of 
peace and good will. 

On Christmas morning around Kitty- 
boy’s neck was fastened, by the doctor’s 
own hand, a bright red ribbon. Then he 
was placed in a basket and deposited upon 
the cushions of the doctor’s carriage. 

With the basket in his hand. Dr. 
Brewster entered Mrs. Temple’s cozy 


Kittyboy’s Christmas 73 

sitting-room, where a hearty welcome 
awaited him. 

“ Elinor has such a host of pretty 
things,” said the child’s mother, “and yet 
she seems a little disappointed. She tells 
me there are two gifts she specially wanted, 
which Santa Claus did not bring her, but 
she will not tell me what they are.” 

“ I think I know,” returned the doctor, 
smiling. “ Come here. Dot, Santa Claus 
asked me to bring your gifts to you, 
because he could not trust any one else, 
and he knew I’d take better care of them 
than some others.” 

Elinor looked at him gravely from 
under her long lashes, and watched eagerly 
while he uncovered the basket, from out 
of which jumped a sleek black little kitten, 
which stretched himself comfortably, look- 
ing up with friendly eyes at the doctor. 

“ Oh, mine own Jollity ! ” cried Elinor. 


74 Kittyboy’s Christmas 

“ Oh, mamma, see ! Oh, isn’t Santa Claus 
good ? ” and she clasped KIttyboy rap- 
turously in her arms. “ And the other 
present,” she said, laughing, “you couldn’t 
bring that in a basket.” 

“ It is here, if mamma will let you keep 
it,” and the doctor took the child on his 
knee, hiding his face in her curly locks. 
“Tell mamma what it is,” he whispered. 

“Oh, mamma,” cried the child, “I 
wrote to Santa Claus and asked him for a 
new kitty and a new papa. That was the 
secret Lily and I had.” Fora moment she 
looked puzzled, and then a light broke 
over her face, while she let the kitten go, 
and clasped the doctor’s neck closer, closer. 
“ And, oh mamma,” she continued, “when 
Santa Claus has sent me such a beautiful, 
’spensive papa, you will let me keep him, 
won’t you ? ” And the mother, amid 
laughter and blushes, could not say her nay. 


















